Refractions

Boundary Water’s evening lakestill, mirroringlike memory doublesyou here and gonenow leaning akimboa cricket musicianmessage encoded in meterin the rhythm of my own armspaddling side to sideas if I could find youin the funnel of each strokein the blue sluice of time.

And light grabs my breath again:peering into that one spacewhere ledge rock dissolves into colorcascades grey and rust and lichen greeneffortlessly transforming at water’s edgetumbling headlong into repetitionunfolding mirror image into the depthless eternity of reflectionuntil, in that moment, I forget which side of vision is mere reality.

And that this bent black line of insectcan singand more—that every chirp should countin precise degreesjust how cold is loss.